


Angel

by fundamentalBlue



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Wingfic, Wings, wingkink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:00:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27716459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fundamentalBlue/pseuds/fundamentalBlue
Summary: “Fuck!”The mug clattered to the floor, handle cracking off and tumbling towards toe-kick of the island. There wasn’t much coffee left, but what was remaining had Jackson Pollack’d the entire side of the cabinetry, brown little streaks racing their way down to the bottom.His wings fluttered innocently.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 16
Kudos: 164
Collections: Anti Soulmate Kinktober 2020





	Angel

“Fuck!” 

The mug clattered to the floor, handle cracking off and tumbling towards toe-kick of the island. There wasn’t much coffee left, but what was remaining had Jackson Pollack’d the entire side of the cabinetry, brown little streaks racing their way down to the bottom. 

His wings fluttered innocently. 

“You bastards,” Tony cursed under his breath. He pulled the wings tight to his back, or tried to. His brain was still acclimating to the extra limbs that were attached to him. Mostly the wings just did whatever they wanted, like lay waste to the surfaces of his workshop and any other countertop that had the gall to exist with stuff on it. 

“Hanging in there Tony?” Bruce stumbled into the kitchen, pajama pants slung low on his hips and congealing at the ankles, empty mug tilted precariously in his hand. 

“You know me. _Flying high_ over here.” Tony was in the process of trying to bend over without using his wings as a counterbalance, which wasn’t working very well at all. He’s used to the suit and its numerous stabilizing features, but wings, wings are something else. 

“I see that.” Bruce kindly picked up the pieces of the broken mug, placing them on the counter while Tony huffed, slack-jawed and eyes closed in a mockery of patience. 

“Before you ask, no, Dr. Cho hasn’t gotten back to me, and I don’t know when I’ll be able to get these things off my back.” Tony reached around his torso and tried to smooth the feathers down into some semblance of order. 

“They’re not so bad. Maybe a little clumsy, but they look kind of like they belong there in a weird way.” Bruce tried to make things normal, and Tony usually appreciated that, but he’s about ready to tear out all his feathers and leave whatever was left looking like a plucked chicken. 

“Don’t compliment them. They’ll get ideas.” His wings shudder in an undignified huff, like they heard him speak, and didn’t like what Tony had to say. 

“Seems like they’re tied to your emotional state.”

“No, they’re not.” Yes, they are. 

“Whatever you say Tones.” Bruce finished filling up his mug, taking a long sip while eyeing up the feathery goods on Tony’s back as if they’re entertainment, and at any moment they might break out into song and dance. Which was not far from the truth, when it came to certain people. 

Certain people named Steve. 

Because when the super-soldier is in the room, his wings do their best impression of that handsy guy at the company party, reaching out to brush against Steve with impunity. 

Steve thinks it’s sweet. But Tony knows that his wings are horny for the man and not on the down-low about it. Worse, everyone seems to know the truth but Steve. Admitting his wings are a barometer for his feelings was all but shouting that he has a big, fat, unrequited crush on Rogers. 

Tony hovers in the kitchen, debating on whether he should try one more time to get a coffee, or if he should give it up and go back to whatever resembled work these days. 

“Tony?” Oh no. Tony’s wings ruffle and the tips of them shoot out and upward in some kind of display towards Steve, whose eyes are locked onto Tony’s feathers, his cheeks pinkening. 

“Um, Steve, hey.” He feels the sinew and muscles of his wings _reach_ for Steve with a yearning that Tony feels in his heart, the primary feathers pointing towards the other man in a frankly rude demonstration. This was just terrible, because of all the things he’s never wanted to do, it’s to put his feelings before Steve’s. If Steve knew, he’d be so uncomfortable, Tony knew. 

“They’re so—they’re so beautiful Tony. I know you can’t keep them, but you look—you look good with them.” If Steve only knew what selfish little miscreants his wings have been, he wouldn’t be saying that. 

“I’m always beautiful,” he deadpans. Tony watched Steve circle around the counter, gaze still locked onto the monstrosities sticking out from Tony’s back. Steve really likes the wings, and the wings really like Steve, and all of that was just a clusterfuck waiting to happen. 

“I’ve wanted to ask, Tony, can I touch them? Please?” Steve was already in molestation range, the tips of Tony’s feathers hankering to drag themselves along Steve’s biceps and torso, to wrap themselves around Steve in a soft, plume-y hug. Just because he can’t control them, doesn’t mean he doesn’t know what their dirty little plans are. 

“I’m really not sure you want to do that, Steve.” Tony knew he must have a twisted up expression on his face because Steve’s eyebrows furrow in just that way and his jaw gets a little more rigid. Determined, stalwart. All indelible qualities of Captain America. 

“It’s ok if you’re not comfortable. They just look so—so soft.” Steve reached a hand out, and Tony’s wings closed the distance, the very largest feather brushing his fingers. Tony has given up on trying to stop them from doing whatever it was they want to do when Steve was close. What’s one more thing? 

“You know what, go ahead, you can touch them. Pet away, they love the attention.” 

“Really?” 

Tony’s wings flutter indignantly. _Really._

“Really, really.” 

Steve reached out again and draws his hand along the alula, down to the primary coverts, ending in a long tug on Tony’s primaries. It gave Tony a full-body shudder and no small amount of sheer panic. 

Because it feels _good_ , like someone stroking fingers down his spine and ending with the tips hovering over his entrance, circling the bundle of nerves there. 

There was a conscious disconnect between the idea of his wings being erogenous zones, enough to screw with his sense of what’s a sexual touch, but the thought was now percolating to the surface of his mind and sending waves of frisson to every part of his body that craved Steve’s touch. His nipples, cock, ass, even innocuous spots like the back of his neck or the interior of his thighs are now hunted with phantom sensation. 

Steve petted his wings, hands dragging down the soft pinions before he swept back up to the top to start over again. Tony let out a shameless groan before freezing in place. He’d closed his eyes, but now he’s snapped them back open to meet Steve’s. 

But Steve wasn’t looking at him. No, Steve was focused on the front of Tony’s pants, where Tony suddenly realized he had a full-on erection straining to escape. 

“Steve…” It was too late to apologize. 

“So it’s like that?” Steve’s face was opaque and doesn’t that just make Tony’s raging paranoia go haywire. He’s done it now, ruined everything. 

“It’s like that Steve. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that when you touched them it would feel so—so good.” 

“C’mere Avenger.” Steve’s arms are open and the tiniest of smirks was resting on his face. 

“Over there? Closer to you? But—” His wings puff up at the thought that they’re wanted, that Steve wants Tony over there. By Steve. In Steve’s arms. Like Tony has always dreamed about. 

“Bring those wings with you.” 

“What? Ok, I—oh. _Oh_.” Steve rested his arms around Tony, fingers digging into the scapular feathers and _oh_ , oh god. Tony lets out a tremulous sigh and groans. Steve was rubbing everywhere, hands buried in feathers and wrapped around the delicate bones of the base of his wings. So powerful, Steve could snap them off at the ends, but he holds them with such tenderness, Tony knows Steve will never hurt him. 

“Not in the kitchen,” Nat barks. Tony’s wings are shocked and they extend, flying up to hit the ceiling in a giant plume. 

“Ouch, fuck!” 

Steve, the wing wrangler, grabbed right where Tony’s ulna was and smoothed the wings down to the primaries, cinching them back up onto Tony’s back. 

“How’d you know to do that?” 

“I don’t know, it just seemed like the right thing to do. Come with me?” Steve held out a hand and Tony took it, dizzy with the possible consequences. 

Steve leads him down the hall, straight to his bedroom door. If there was a point where Tony should balk, it’s right here, but he follows Steve into the room, letting his wings squeeze in behind him without an iota of grace. 

“You’re so pretty like this, Tony. I’ve always wanted—well, you’re hard not to want. But this was something else. You’re like an angel.” Complimented, his wings titter and shake themselves out, preening. Tony stared at Steve, wide-eyed. All it took to get Steve to requite the unrequited was to grow a pair—of wings. Tony was stunned. 

“I assure you, these wings are the furthest thing from angelic.” 

“I like ‘em. Get over here, Avenger.” And the way Steve _says_ that should be illegal in at least ten states. Plus, his face was doing him all sorts of favor with that stern jaw, pink lips, and his sky-blue eyes begging Tony to comply. 

Tony was helpless, has always been helpless when it came to Steve. 

The sheer sensation of getting what he wants overwhelms him, and as he walks over, he finds himself drawn to Steve’s lips like a magnet, latching on as he made it to kissing distance. Steve doesn’t rebuke him but lets him suck on the plumpness there, wetting and kneading it with his teeth before he moved up for the main course. 

Steve wasn’t an inactive participant; the man has a plan, and it was star-fucking-spangled, as fireworks go off in Tony’s head. There’s a tongue in his mouth, hands at his hips, a hard cock pressed against his own, and Tony was flying. 

Tony wrenched up Steve’s shirt, fists buried at the hems as he stripped Steve, leaving that beautiful chest exposed for Tony’s mouth. He immediately sucked at those gorgeous nipples, Steve tossing his head back with a groan. Reaching out, Steve grasped Tony’s wings again, drawing them around him as he rubbed into the marginal coverts. It sends shivers all over Tony’s body, and again he has that sensation of every pleasurable nerve ending being caressed and touched. 

“Oh god, Steve, I need you now. Don’t stop, don’t stop touching me.”

Unashamed, he humped Steve’s leg, grinding his cock along the solid muscle there. 

Steve chuckled and manhandled Tony to the bed, forcing him flat on his stomach. Tugging at Tony’s pants, Tony got with the program and unbuttoned and unzipped himself, letting the legs slide over his skin until he’s down to his boxers and a shirt. Steve made short work of the former, leaving Tony exposed. His wings flap once, twice, before settling out on either side of him. 

“You’re so beautiful like this. All mine. Gonna love you, angel.” 

“Yes, I’ll take anything, anything at all, _please_.” Tony wanted Steve so bad, he got on his knees, ass straight in the air, elbows to the bed. 

Steve, lovely, amazing Steve, stroked down his scapular and drug his fingers right down to Tony’s hole, his perineum, balls, and his hanging cock, stopping to swirl the head with precision. 

“ _Fuck_.” His wings spread themselves, wiggling this way and that, giving Steve as much encouragement as they can. For once, Tony and his wings are on board with the same objective, so he can’t be too upset with them. 

Tony felt a single digit, wet with lubricant that he has no idea how Steve got ahold of, penetrate him. Roughly, he jerks himself back on it, embedding the finger up to the last knuckle. 

“Eager.” Steve, in a fit of generosity, gave Tony two more and he fucked them in and out as Tony ground his ass back on them. “Hold tight.” 

That’s the only warning that Tony got before he felt a hand dig itself in on either side of his marginal coverts and Steve’s cock at his entrance. Somehow, Steve caught his cock on the rim of Tony’s hole and got his head in without any assistance. Tony bowed his back, letting the quivering of his wings take him away into a river of pleasure. He floated on it, every inch of Steve inside and surrounding him. It’s like a massage, like getting fucked all over his body, like being turned inside out. 

Steve’s hands wander, keeping a firm grip on the upper bones of his wings as he slid them down to the humorous and back up to his ulna and radius. When Steve got the grip he wanted, he starts relentlessly pounding in and out of Tony. 

It’s heaven, and Tony mewled, crying and twitching while Steve fucked into him with determination. 

“So pretty. So gorgeous. Want you to keep these. Does that feel good? You like it when I touch your wings?” 

“Yes! Yes, Steve, god, don’t stop, please, I need it. _I need it_.” With that admission, Steve got up off his knees, keeping his cock embedded in Tony, and _mounted_ him, Steve’s taut body leaning all the way over Tony’s and rubbing against his back. Hips smacked down into Tony, stretching his ass open and putting pressure on his rim. It has the added effect of aiming Steve’s cock right at Tony’s prostate from his bent position. 

The result is unreal. 

Between his wings and his prostate, Tony exploded into an orgasm that overtook him in a crashing wave of sensation. Steve doesn’t take that long to follow after, grunting out and filling him with hot spurts of come, grip tight on Tony’s wings. They shudder together, Tony’s wings fluttering without control. 

Finally, they detach, Steve’s hands unclenching themselves. 

“That was wow. I honestly thought these things were useless, but so far they’ve netted me you.” Tony is laying flat now with Steve still on top of him, and he’s never been more content, his wings not flapping around or otherwise being disobedient. If a good fuck is all it takes for them to cool their jets, Tony is going to get laid every day. 

“So you’re going to keep them?” 

“Maybe. We should experiment some more to see if it’s worth it.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.”


End file.
